


It Does Not Do To Dwell On Dreams And Forget To Live

by RiddleMeEvil



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin is worried, Force Visions, Gen, Hopefully a fix-it?, M/M, Obi-Angst, Obi-Wan Has Nightmares, Obikin if you want it's up to you, Poor Obi-Wan, Visions of Mustafar, they deserve better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 20:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10421400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddleMeEvil/pseuds/RiddleMeEvil
Summary: The first night home, he dreams.Obi-Wan is having nightmares-visions of a possible future-and isn't sleeping. Anakin is worried and tries to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! There is no mention of Padmé in this.. I just wanted it to be the boys. It can be read as Obikin or not, whatever the reader prefers. Not beta'ed, all mistakes are mine, and the title is a quote from JK Rowling's Albus Dumbledore-he's awesome, don't you think? Thank you for reading, please be gentle if you review ;) and enjoy! -Lyra

The first night home, he dreams. 

He's just come back from a long, exhausting mission with his former Padawan, and after their report to the Council he showers and tumbles into bed, falling asleep the instant his head hits his pillow. He dreams of vague shapes and images, all slowly being consumed by a swirling, grey Darkness, and he wakes with a start. Shaking his head, he dismisses it-despite the unsettled feeling in the back of his mind and in the Force-and goes back to sleep. The next morning, it is already forgotten. 

The second night, he dreams again, this time the images clearer and the Darkness deeper and more sentient than it was the night before. 

He sees no faces, hears no voices, but feels deep within him the ache of betrayal and a stinging, burning loss. His eyes fly open and he gasps, a knot settling low in his belly. He rolls over and buries his face in his pillow, willing the emotions and fears the dream has awakened inside him away. 

The next morning, he asks for an extra cup of caf, and Anakin pauses his babble about the latest Senate news to bemusedly hand it to him. His Master is a creature of habit, so this change-no matter how small-is unsettling. 

The third night, he dreams. 

This time, he sees two lights, complimenting each other in every way possible-two halves of a whole, one a steady stream of strong, pure white Light, the other a bursting, gold supernova, with swirls of every color within. They dance around each other, twisting and turning, following steps that have been in place since the beginning of time, sometimes colliding with a shower of sparks, sometimes merging together so seamlessly they appear to be one single entity. 

As they part, the gold, passionate light is pulled away from the other, drawing ever closer to a sinister shadow. It hesitates, and the pure light flashes silver-but the gold is already being sucked within the Dark. 

The Force shrieks with loss, and he wakes with tears streaming down his face, fingers clutching his sheets. He doesn't sleep until the first rays of the sun shine through his window, and his actions throughout the day reek of preoccupation. 

The fourth night, he tries not to sleep, terrified of what he'll see if he does. He passes out after midnight, feeling the Dark swell up around him. It tears everything from him-everything he holds dear is crushed, and he sees evil, yellow eyes, hears a horrifying laugh that sends chills up his spine, and when he looks up he sees the Temple burning. He wakes with a shout, the image burned onto the backs of his eyelids, and Anakin stumbles sleepily into the room. He asks what's wrong, but the Master doesn't answer, shaking his head and focusing on calming his rapid breathing. 

Later, he stops their spar, pleading a headache, and the Knight nods his assent with a worried look in his warm blue eyes. 

The fifth night, he dreams. 

He is within the Temple now, but it's not the Temple he knows. This Temple is a hollow shell of its original majestic form, its occupants strewn carelessly throughout its halls. He feels the loss like a punch to the gut, smells the acrid stench of blaster burnt flesh, sees his friends-his family-all dead within the walls of the only home they've ever known, the only place they've ever felt truly safe, and wakes with bile creeping up his throat. He makes it to the fresher before he vomits, not noticing the sleepy blue eyes peeking out from behind their bedroom door. 

At lunch, he picks at his food, his companion trying to keep up lively conversation but faltering every few moments, flashes of worry appearing on the young, expressive features. 

The sixth night, he's slipped sleeping pills, his younger counterpart hoping they'll give his former Master the peace he deserves. 

The Force has other ideas, however, and this time he finds himself on a barren world of fire, heat scorching his skin and lungs every time he draws a breath. He's shouting at a figure facing away from him, betrayal and loss pouring from him in agonizing waves along with a love so intense he can hardly bear it. The figure answers him, dark tones menacingly turning his own words on him, twisting them so they're unrecognizable-like the bodies in the Temple, like even the Force is now, since the loss of so many has torn it to shreds-and he cries then, drawing his saber from his belt, and the figure jumps to him, his own saber flashing blue against the fiery red of this hellish planet, and their sabers clash, blue on blue. 

He wakes with a scream, his hands outstretched before him and Anakin kneeling by his side, terror evident on his pale face and in his shaking voice. The Knight pulls him close, trying to calm him, sooth him with gentle words, but he pulls away, snapping at the young man, and leaves their apartment, the door slamming behind him. 

When they meet that afternoon for the usual meditation, he cringes away from the Force, afraid to feel the tattered remains he felt the night before, not even lasting five minutes before he stands and walks abruptly away. 

The seventh night, he sits in bed, his face drawn and pale from lack of rest, and prays that the Force will grant him sleep. 

In the hall just outside, Anakin quietly lays down his blanket and pillow, leaning against his Master's door. Dreams rarely bother his Master-this week the Force has been full of disquiet around the older Jedi, and the Knight is worried for him. He knows the man won't willingly place his burden in anyone else's hands-that's one of the many, many reasons Anakin loves him-but he's determined to stop whatever is torturing his Master's dreams. 

Inside the room, the Jedi Master falls into a fitful sleep, the Force bringing him back to the hell he's only seen once but never wants to visit again. 

This time, on top of the feelings and emotions he felt the night before, there was a voice in his head screaming at him-how this was his fault, how he should've seen this coming and known how to stop it-and the figure before him turns, and he looks into the horrible yellow eyes that have taken the place of the beautiful blue ones he loves so much, and he wails. 

Back in his room, Anakin has thrown open the door and is beside him in an instant, shaking his shoulders and begging him to wake up, to come back-and within this awful dream Obi-Wan is still wailing, because the Sith before him-the killer of the Jedi, the murderer of the Republic and everything he spent his life working for-is Anakin, the only person he's ever truly let himself love, and he realizes that it really must be all his fault. He drops his saber and falls to his knees, pleading with his former Padawan-for mercy, for death, he doesn't know-and he wakes up, shaking and sobbing. Anakin is there again, and he's crying, asking Obi-Wan to please, please tell him what's going on because he can't stand seeing him like this, and Obi-Wan falls forward into his chest, clutching the Knight close. 

Eventually, his sobs subside, his body shuddering every few moments, and Anakin is stroking his back, pressing a kiss to his hair, and he can't help but reach to the Force. 

He whimpers when he feels the Light surrounding the young man, and it strengthens him, and he lifts his tear-streaked face to gaze up into Anakin's. Anakin is cupping his cheek with his hand, and searching his eyes, and Obi-Wan reaches to brush a trembling finger down the Knight's face. Anakin leans into his touch, and Obi-Wan finally, finally breaks-he tells Anakin everything, and Anakin holds him tightly the whole time, and afterwards Obi-Wan feels clean and drained and so, so tired. The Knight makes him promise to never keep such terrors to himself again, and Obi-Wan promises he won't-how could he not, when those blue eyes gaze at him like that and the rosy lips pout just so? 

Anakin presses their foreheads together and promises his Master that he'll never let the dream become reality, says he'll leave the Jedi if he has to, and the seriousness in his tone forces Obi-Wan to believe him. When Anakin uses that voice he means what he says, and he's never yet broken a promise he's made to his Master. 

Obi-Wan nods shakily, his hand tangled into the curls at the nape of Anakin's neck, and Anakin rocks him slowly, cheek pressed to the tousled ginger locks atop Obi-Wan's head. The gentle motion eventually lulls the exhausted Master almost to sleep but he jerks awake, eyes wide and terrified. 

Anakin's voice above him promises to keep him safe, to keep the nightmares away, and Obi-Wan trusts Anakin more than he trusts himself so he relaxes, letting go of the visions and pushing the Dark away with the Light and strength he gains from Anakin. As he does so, Anakin sends loving, calming feelings over their Bond, and Obi-Wan falls asleep peacefully, dreamlessly, his head resting on his Knight's chest and a steady heartbeat in his ear-a warmth he unconsciously knows to be Anakin encompassing his Force presence, cradling his Light safely against itself.


End file.
